Remembering You
by Cass Perenelle
Summary: [Post DVT, pre SC] Caspian honestly didn't know why he chose that date. What was he thinking?


**Disclaimer**: Why do I even bother? –someone shouts: It's Lewis's!- There you have it.

**Author's note**: POST VDT. Again, part AU (concerning Caspian's age). My first one-shot fic so please go easy with me. :) The one-shot sequel to For Better or Worse?. Dedicated to **Callie**, who loves Caspian and the reason why I wrote this (besides liking Caspian myself). I had actually randomly picked the title as it just popped into my mind (or maybe it's because I'd just listened to Remembering You the Music Inspired for CoN). ;P

**Title**: Remembering You

**Summary**: He didn't know why he chose that date. _What was he thinking_?

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**Remembering You**

Sir Reepicheep had taken the dance floor, as usual, with his fellow Talking Mice. Everyone was more cautious at that moment as they carefully not to cross the flour line around those Talking Mice. Certainly one of King Caspian X's most brilliant (and rather _desperate_) ideas so far. He was just trying to serve his people better (and keep everyone at ease) and he knew he was doing great. Now Reepicheep and his fellow mice could dance and jiggle as wildly as they wanted to. No more oh-I-beg-your-pardon-I've-stepped-on-your-tail nightmares. Caspian understood him. It just so embarrassing to have you tail stepped on, let alone letting everyone around you hear you _squeaked_ … particularly when you're a knight.

It was just … not _right_. And if the guests from the neighbouring countries feel uncomfortable with that, well, he could always ask Giant Wimbleweather to do the trick.

Towards the very first decade of his reign, Caspian felt proud of himself for he had received many approval nods and respects from the neighbouring countries, particularly Archenland. The servant trade his uncle the usurper had been practicing in the old days had been abolished, just the way he always wanted it to be.

He had to learn on how to be more diplomatic and he had to admit, being solemn and serious was a very hard thing to do throughout the first year of his reign. He was forced to be strong for his people. He had also learnt on how to be reticent and composed the whole time and how to be more compassionate. It took him nearly two years to be what he was at the moment and he realised that he had many more to learn.

He had also encouraged his people to embark in any voyage to explore the Eastern Seas for themselves. For he, King Caspian X had succeeded in his very first voyage three years right after his ascendancy to the throne. He had met the two younger ancient King and Queen during the great voyage in his _Dawn Treader_, King Edmund and Queen Lucy for one last time.

Caspian had danced with nearly all of the lady guests from the neighbouring countries in the hall … tall, thin, petite, beautiful, plump, good-looking … _nearly_ with everyone. He could see the breathless adoration in their eyes as he politely spun them around but that expression irked him … somehow. But he carefully not to let his displeasure showed through his eyes for he also had learnt on how to charm the ladies, of course. At twenty-five, he surely had the charisma he never thought he would have before.

Or maybe it was just because of his crown, title, wealth and honour. By any means, he didn't want to bother himself to know the real deal anyway, for he had another matter to keep his mind busy that night.

And when he switched from one partner to another, he couldn't help but remembering her.

If she was there, she would surely the very first one who would say, 'No, thank you.'

That was just so her.

And when he looked at the dark blue ball gown worn by one of the lady guests, he couldn't help but remembering her.

If she was there, she would surely have worn that colour.

That was her favourite colour.

And when he sighted the grapes in the plate right in front of him just a while ago, he couldn't help but remembering her.

Purple reminded him a lot of her. Violet, that was her name.

He couldn't help it. Particularly on that very date.

She was part of the reason why he became the man he was then.

Sighing inwardly, he put down his goblet on the long grand table right next to him, thinking about slipping away to the balcony. The gaiety in the Great Hall just couldn't suit his mood at the moment. He just needed some time to think and drown himself in reminiscence. Thinking of her in there just caused guilt. Right before he slipped away, he cast one last look at a very regal and poised yellow-haired lady who was dancing gracefully with one of his knights.

Convinced by the gaiety and happiness and radiance shown on her face, he strode out of the hall quietly to the grand balcony that overlooked Narnia magical woods.

The first anniversary of his marriage … also marked the ninth year since her "disappearance".

He didn't know why he chose that very same date. Perhaps he just wanted to make his pain subside. Overcome his frustration. Heat up the coldness. Fill up the emptiness in his heart.

How he used to love her. He was thinking about courting her; make her his Queen just like what he had told her. That was not a mere promise. He _did_ intend to. He knew that what she thought they were having between them was nothing more than a sibling-love but he also knew that love would soon take over. If only time was on his side. If only he was given that chance.

If only he knew.

If only she could see the pain she had caused. He never saw that coming.

But he knew it was hard for her too. He could see several blotches on that precious letter. Though she didn't write those words herself, he knew those words came straight from her heart.

Caspian slipped one hand into his pocket. The letter was still there, of course. It would stay there until he'd remove it himself later on. He didn't have to read it for he had memorised it all. After all, it had been nine years.

He closed his eyes as the words came swirling before his eyes.

_Dear Caspian,_

_By the time you're reading this, I'm already gone. I'm sorry because I had asked dear Doctor Cornelius to write this letter but you see, I'm not a fast writer, not yet._

_Please forgive me, dear Caspian, for this come to you with a shock. It's really hard for me and I know it's going to be really hard for you too. Aslan has finally told me to go back to where I truly belonged. I just knew this yesterday and I haven't quite recovered from the shock yet. And I think … I never will be._

_I love you, I do. You're like the brother I never had. You've made me see that there are more to life and I'm thankful for that. And I don't mind saying that I'm going to miss you so terribly and I'm so sorry that I've left without telling you myself but you see, I'm not that strong enough to take your pain away. I'm not that brave enough to see the pain you're feeling right now._

_So forgive me, for I'm only nobody, asking for forgiveness from her King. Take good care of yourself. You're a King now … your people need you to be strong and healthy. I will always remember the kindness and love you've shown to me … thank you. If this letter hurt you, burn it. I understand._

_Goodbye._

_Yours truly, Violet._

He swore that he could actually hear her voice and feel the pain every time the words in the letter repeated themselves in his head. Caspian swallowed bitterly as his eyes began to burn. After a moment, he felt slightly disgusted of himself for he realised that a king should not let this kind of painful, surreal memory consume his kingly senses.

True, the letter had hurt him terribly but he didn't have the heart to burn it. That was the only piece of her that he could actually hold. So he kept it there in his pocket and brought it everywhere he went. Nobody knew about that, Trumpkin the dwarf thought he kept a small, secret weapon in there.

Sure, his _small, secret weapon_. His weakness. The letter from his first love.

No wonder she had been sniffling that night. She was crying and he … _he_ thought she had a cold. It was even harder for her because she knew what was coming. Caspian blamed his insensitive heart.

If only he knew.

If he knew, he would have begged her to stay … begged Aslan to let her stay … begged her to give love a chance … tried to stay awake to keep her close to his heart.

But if he knew, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep his head held up high.

Something … _something_ had tipped his heart that night as he pulled her closer to him. He had told her that he loved her. He was glad that at least, wherever she was right then, she knew that he loved her too.

But he should have known better, seeing her walking with her bare feet around the garden … seeing her looking so distant during dinner that memorable night. Again, he blamed his insensitive heart.

He would always, always remember her. For she, no matter how many times he wanted to push the truth away, he had to accept the truth that she had forced him to be the man he was right then. Strong and reticent. He heaved a sigh, trying to regain control of himself.

'My lord?'

Caspian jerked and straightened himself up at once. He recognised that voice and quickly composed himself, swallowing hard as if there was huge lump in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he then turned around slowly to face her and saw Ramandu's daughter smiling at him. His beautiful Rilia, his wife.

'I've been searching for you. What are doing you out here?' she asked softly.

Caspian swallowed bitterly before forcing himself to smile. He held out his palm and she tenderly grasped his, smiling questioningly up at him.

'I just want to be out in the open to have some fresh air,' he answered quietly as he pulled her closer. She flashed an understanding smile at him. And much to his surprise, she slipped her arms around his waist affectionately from his side and rested her head against his shoulder. The flowery scent from her hair came strikingly into his nostrils and he felt his manly senses began to reel.

'Narnia is even more breathtaking and beautiful at night,' she whispered. He caressed her back mildly, looking over the woods.

Beautiful. To him, Violet was beautiful. Black-haired, round eyes, smiling mouth … and after a while, a realisation hit him in the head. Violet and Rilia had so many differences.

In contrast, Rilia was yellow-haired, almond-shaped eyes, rosy lips …

How could he think of Rilia as Violet … Violet's _substitute_? He fell in love with Rilia at first sight. He really did. The sensations he felt for his wife was different than the sensations he felt for Violet.

The love he felt for Violet was different than the love he felt for his wife. True, if time had been on his side, he would have loved Violet as deeply as he loved his wife at that very moment. But it didn't so he had moved on.

Violet was different. She was only his first love. And Rilia … Rilia was really _different_. She was his _true_ love.

Violet had caused the pain but Rilia had taken it all away. The willingness she had shown to him to leave her father behind had already completely made him feel moved and weak on the inside.

He pulled his arm away from his wife slowly as he turned her body around to face him. She was obviously in bewilderment when he did this and he smiled quietly, amused at her sweet innocence.

_Violet had been surreal but Rilia is real_ …

'I love you,' he said tenderly as he stroked her hair gently. He liked how soft her hair felt between his fingers. She caught his hand suddenly and pressed warmly against her cheek, looking straight into his eyes.

'I love you too, my dear husband,' she replied in a whisper and pressed a kiss on the palm of his hand.

_My dear husband_ … he loved how that sounded. And when he felt her breath against his skin, his senses began to weaken. And he knew right then what he should tell her.

'No matter what happen, I want you to know that I'm pledging my whole life to you … don't you ever feel worried about that,' he told her quietly as he cupped her face and for one moment he thought he had just seen tears behind her eyes. But when she blinked her eyes, the tears had gone.

'I'm not worried, my lord, for I know about that right from the start,' she whispered achingly and he couldn't hold on any longer.

He leant over to kiss her deeply, robbing her breath away.

She was solely his and he ... _he _was solely hers. No man alive could ever change that fact. Not even Violet.

Violet would always have her special place there deep inside his heart where Rilia would reign forever as his Queen.

**The End**

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**Author's note**: I just made up her name. I got the idea while I was in the shower -blushes-. Casp**ian** ... Rilian. **Rilia **... **Rilian**. See? I am not making any sense, am I? ;P


End file.
